Birthday Present
by BookwormBaby2580
Summary: Complete with shiny gift wrap and a little red bow. Rapefic. You've been warned.


**This story comes with _all_ the warnings. It's exploitative and promotes pretty much everything that shouldn't ought to be promoted. I owe the world an apology for even thinking up this story.**

**If you're reading this and you're under eighteen, turn off the computer and go do your homework. And tell your mother to quit letting you read dirty vampire smut; it'll make your face freeze that way.**

**Thanks so much to NixHaw, who betas for me and encourages naughty little fics like this one.**

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**Birthday Present**

Charlie's biggest mistake was trying to keep my mom happy enough that she wouldn't leave him. It cost him a dearly, both emotionally and financially, to know that she always had one foot out the door. He'd done everything he could to keep that other foot anchored, though. He bought her jewelry, cars, lavish vacations—none of which he could afford on his public servant's salary—but in the end, it wasn't enough. The summer before my seventeenth birthday, the debtors that Charlie had only _just_ been managing to keep at bay started catching up with him. Interest rates went up. Higher payments were required. But Renée kept demanding gifts and Charlie kept buying them, and when the mountain of debt started coming down around him, Renée met Phil.

She disappeared without a word. I'd come home one day to find all of her things gone.

It was weird, but it wasn't traumatic. Renée had never really been the nurturing type, so we hadn't developed much of a mother-daughter bond. The hardest part was watching what it did to Charlie. He'd been in love with her, obsessively so, and when she left he spiraled into a deep depression. He drank heavily and missed work so often that he lost his job.

Which, of course, meant that the bills stopped getting paid. I'd picked up a summer job at Newton's and made enough to buy groceries, but then the threatening phone calls started.

Charlie barely noticed. He was drunk pretty much all the time by then. But _I_ noticed, and it terrified me. With every voice mail from a collections agency demanding money, or from a utility company threatening to discontinue services, I got a little sicker inside. What would we do without power? Without water?

It occurred to me that the utilities wouldn't much matter, though, when the bank called about the mortgage payment. We were going to lose the house. It was only a matter of time before Charlie and I would be homeless.

I tried to talk to him about it. I begged him every day to look for work, and even filled out applications and turned them in for him. But Forks was a small town, and everyone knew. Charlie Swan was a bad bet.

That was where things stood when Carlisle Cullen showed up at the front door. It was early evening, just after sunset, and based on the necktie and briefcase, I guessed he had come straight from a shift at the hospital. The smile he flashed me when I opened the door was charming and friendly, but somehow it still managed to send icy chills racing through my body.

"Hello, Miss Swan. Is your father home?"

I led him back to the den where Charlie was parked in front of the television, a bottle of whiskey clutched in one hand. He didn't look up, but I was pretty sure it wasn't because he was engrossed in his program. I'd heard this infomercial play at least three times in the last couple of weeks, and I doubted he was really all that interested in perfect rotisserie chicken.

"Charlie, may I have a word with you?"

He grunted, his eyes still locked on the television.

Carlisle moved over to the set and switched it off, finally drawing my dad out of his reverie. Charlie raised the bottle of whiskey to his mouth and took a swig, then stared at Carlisle through watery eyes.

"What?"

Carlisle invited himself to take a seat on the couch opposite Charlie, and I wandered back into the kitchen to start clearing up the dinner dishes. As usual, Charlie hadn't eaten much of his fish. He seemed to be surviving on Folgers and Jameson these days.

"I hear you've gotten yourself into a difficult spot," I heard Carlisle say from the living room. "I thought I'd come by and see if you and I could work out a solution.

Charlie grunted again. "M'fine."

"No, you're not. The bank is preparing to foreclose on your house."

There was a pause and then Charlie mumbled, "And what are you going to do about it?"

I started filling the sink to wash the dishes, but kept an ear cocked on their conversation, more than eager to hear what Carlisle was suggesting.

"I'll pay your debts," he said. "Loans, credit cards, both of your mortgages—everything. And I'll give you an extra one hundred thousand dollars to live off of until you've gotten back on your feet."

I nearly dropped the plate I'd been washing. He couldn't possibly be serious. Everyone knew he had money, but did he really have enough that he could just throw it around like that?

Charlie grunted again. "Why would you do that?"

"I'm asking for something in return, of course. I'm offering a business deal, not charity."

"What do you want?"

"I want your daughter."

This time I did drop the plate, splashing sudsy water all over myself. I gasped in a breath, trying to figure out if I'd misheard him, but no matter how many times I replayed it, it always sounded the same. I left the dishes and peered into the living room, where it looked like Carlisle had finally caught my dad's attention. He was sitting up straight, peering blearily at his guest.

"Come again?"

Carlisle placed his brief case on the couch beside him and opened it. He withdrew a manila folder and passed it to Charlie.

"These papers will transfer custody of Isabella to me until she reaches the age of eighteen. Sign them, and I'll see to it that your financial troubles disappear."

Charlie caught my eye, and then looked down at the papers. "What do you want with Bella?"

I couldn't see Carlisle's face, but I heard a coolness creep into his tone. "Tomorrow is my son's birthday. I think Isabella would make a lovely gift."

Charlie stared at Carlisle, then set down the bottle of Jameson and scrubbed his hands over his face. "I'm hallucinating," he muttered, his voice muffled by his hands.

"I'm afraid I don't have the patience to get into that with you," Carlisle said, tapping his fingers on his brief case. "But I will point out that you've backed yourself into a corner. You can either accept my offer or find yourself homeless in a few days, which, I assure you, will cost you custody of your daughter anyway."

Charlie grabbed the bottle of Jameson and drank deeply. He set it down again and stared at Carlisle, and I could see he was considering it.

"Dad!" I stalked into the room, feeling my face heat with anger and humiliation. "Are you crazy? You can't . . . you can't _sell_ me!"

"Watch your tone," Carlisle said sharply.

I gaped at him. "Are you kidding me? Dad! Tell him to leave!"

Charlie blinked blankly at me, and then struggled to focus on Carlisle again. "S'not enough. A hundred thousand. Can't get Renée back with a hundred thousand."

The corners of Carlisle's mouth quirked up in a triumphant smile. "A fair point. Five hundred thousand, then. That should be enough to tempt her back to you."

"Five hundred thousand . . ." Charlie was losing focus again. His eyes drifted back to the television, and he stared at the blank screen. "Yeah. She'll come back . . . for five hundred thousand . . ."

Carlisle pushed a pen into Charlie's hand and opened the folder to the proper page. "Just sign here. That's all you need to do."

"Don't!" I started toward him to snatch the papers away, but Carlisle grabbed my arm and yanked me back, rising to his feet as he did so.

"You're attitude is going to get you into trouble, girl. You'd do well to learn your place."

I struggled against his grip, but it was too late. Charlie was flipping the folder closed and pushing the signed papers back toward Carlisle.

He smiled. "I'll make some phone calls. Isabella, put this on."

From out of his brief case he withdrew the most appalling thing I had ever seen. It was a pair of black lace panties and a filmy babydoll top that sure as hell wasn't designed to _hide_ anything.

I gaped at them. "No. I'm not wearing that." I looked to Charlie for help, but he was focused on his whiskey bottle again.

Carlisle narrowed his eyes and gathered up his things. He muttered something about discipline and then grabbed me by the hair and dragged me out of the room. I tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. He pulled me after him to the front door and then shoved me up against it, pinning me there with his body.

"I would whip you for your insolence if I didn't think Edward would prefer to do it himself," he hissed. He grabbed the collar of my shirt and tore it in two, tossing the tattered fabric aside. He did the same with my jeans, and then my underwear, and then threw the lingerie at me.

"Wear it, or go naked."

I hunched my shoulders, hugging the lingerie to my chest. Something was better than nothing, wasn't it? I gave in and tugged on the insubstantial little scraps with fumbling fingers.

"That's better." Carlisle opened his brief case once again and drew out two pairs of handcuffs. "On your knees."

That was definitely going too far. I wasn't going to have anything to do with handcuffs. I tried to dart around him but he caught me around the waist and pushed me down onto the floor, dragging my hands behind my back.

"Dad!" I screamed. "Charlie! Help me!"

The only answer was the sound of the television clicking on again. The infomercial host raved over the golden-brown color of the chicken as Carlisle locked the cold metal cuffs around my wrists. He grabbed my feet and pulled my ankles up, locking the second set of restraints around them. I tried to kick out at him but he was already pulling me up onto my knees. He produced a red satin ribbon from his bag and tied it around my neck, and then stepped back to look me over.

"That's better. You're a pretty little thing. I'm sure Edward will be very pleased with his gift."

"You can't do this," I said, my voice breaking from fear.

"Hush, child."

"No! You can't treat people this way! I'm not a gift, for Edward or anyone else!"

He sighed. "Edward's going to have his hands full with you." He reached once again into his briefcase and pulled out a black ball with attached leather straps. I barely had time to realize what it was before he was stuffing the ball into my mouth and buckling the straps behind my head. I protested against the hard rubber, but my voice came out weak and muffled.

"Much better," he said. He leaned down and picked me up, tossing me over his shoulder and heading out the front door.

I couldn't believe this was happening. I couldn't believe Charlie was _allowing_ this to happen. And I really couldn't believe it when Carlisle carried me to a flashy little car sporting an Aston Martin logo and opened the trunk.

There was no way he was going to put me in there. There was no way I could _fit_ in there. The space was tiny, and anyway, what kind of crazy person stuffed someone into a trunk?

But he did it. He pushed me in on my side and folded my knees up to my chest, then closed the trunk. I was left in complete darkness, listening to the muffled sound of his footsteps rounding the car.

My brain was completely incapable of processing what was happening. Without a second thought, my father had literally sold me to a freakishly strong psychopath who seemed to have no concept of human rights. The most confusing part of all of it was that I'd always thought Carlisle was a pretty nice guy. Since he had moved to Forks with his sons the previous year, he had been perfectly friendly to everyone in town. His boys didn't have a lot of friends at school, but I'd just figured they were private people. Despite the occasional dark look from Edward that led me to believe he didn't like me very much, they had all pretty much left me alone.

I couldn't understand how things had changed so quickly. Had they always been like this, hiding their psychotic tendencies from everyone in town?

I heard the engine start up and felt the car rumble to life beneath me. For several long minutes I was aware only of the growl of the engine and the shifts in momentum as Carlisle steered the car around town. Eventually the car slowed, and after a quiet pause I heard a rushing, pounding noise that seemed vaguely familiar. It was several moments before I placed it. A car wash.

Carlisle was leaving me in the trunk while he had the car washed?

Tears sprang to my eyes as I wriggled in the tiny space, seeking a more comfortable position. There was hardly any room to move, and the ribbon tied around my neck was driving me crazy. It was just tight enough to make it feel like my breathing was restricted, though I wasn't really having a hard time drawing in the stuffy air in the small compartment.

He had to let me out of here soon, right? He couldn't leave me here for too long. A tight knot formed in the pit of my stomach when I remembered that he had said Edward's birthday wasn't until tomorrow. Surely he wouldn't keep me in here all night . . .

My vision clouded and I writhed frantically. I couldn't stand it if he kept me here that long—I just couldn't. But Carlisle didn't seem particularly concerned about what I could tolerate. I kicked at the sides of the trunk, and I could have sworn I heard a quiet laugh from the front of the car.

Seething hatred replaced my panic and I ground my teeth. He wasn't going to get away with this. As soon as I got out of there, I would expose him for what he was. Everyone in Forks would know that he was a sick, twisted creep.

The car wash ended, and was followed by several long minutes of driving. The car eventually reached a gravel road, and after a few more minutes it stopped. The engine died, the driver's door thunked closed, and then there was silence.

I had no idea how long I lay there in the quiet darkness, but it felt longer than any other period in my life. I was terrified of being left there, and terrified of what would happen when I was finally released. The clothes that Carlisle had given me didn't leave much question about what he meant when he said I was supposed to be a gift for Edward, and the fact that he'd had Charlie sign custody papers implied that he hadn't planned on only a quick visit.

This wasn't going to be over any time soon.

After what seemed like forever, I heard noises again. There was a burst of deep, male laughter, the slam of a door to a house that didn't sound very far away. Silence fell for a moment, and then I heard Edward's voice, low and reverent.

"Whoa . . ."

"Like it?" came Carlisle's answer.

"It's _beautiful_."

Footsteps approached and did a circle around the car. "This is unbelievable, Carlisle! I love it!"

"Good." I could hear the smug satisfaction in his voice. "But this is just gift wrapping."

"What?"

"Open her up. Your real present is inside."

I heard an eager laugh as the driver's side was once again pulled open. "Where?"

"Keep looking."

There was a little more rustling in front of the car, and then the door closed again and his footsteps headed toward the rear of the car—toward me. The key scraped in the lock and dim starlight flooded into the trunk. Edward stood in front of me, and for a moment we locked eyes, staring at each other.

His pupils dilated with blatant desire. "You got her," he breathed.

"I did." Carlisle stepped up behind him and patted his shoulder. "She's all yours."

"_Fuck._" He reached out and brushed a thumb over my lip, and I realized from the stinging sensation that it must have split at some point. He brought his hand away, staring at the drop of blood on his thumb for a moment before bringing it to his mouth and sucking it off. His eyes slip closed and he moaned.

My stomach turned over.

"She's delicious," Edward sighed. "It's all I can do not to drain her right here."

Carlisle laughed. "I hope you get a little more use out of her than that. I paid a lot of money for her."

I glared at Carlisle and he smiled back at me.

"She's got some fight in her. You ought to enjoy that."

Edward smiled, a cruel, eerie smile that made me shudder. "I'm very pleased to hear that." He reached down and grabbed me by the arms, dragging me out of the trunk. My joints were cramped and stiff from being left so long in the tiny space, and I fumbled for footing in the rough gravel. As soon as I managed to stand up, though, Edward kicked my feet out from under me and let go of my arms, sending me tumbling down onto the unforgiving rock.

Laughter sounded all around me, and I realized that Edward's brothers were nearby. They were standing in front of a white three-storey house, and the car I had been trapped in was parked in the gravel drive that led up to it.

I attempted to twist myself into a sitting position, but Edward pressed the bottom of his shoe to my neck and shoved me back down, pinning me to the ground.

"I didn't say you could get up," he said coldly.

I tried to wriggle out from under him, but he pressed harder, cutting off my air flow. He watched dispassionately as I struggled frantically for oxygen.

Emmett stepped forward, his eyes raking over my body. "She's adorable. Are you going to let me take her for a spin?"

Edward snorted. "Have I ever shared any of my toys with you?"

"There's a first time for everything, right?"

"Not that. Keep your hands off my girl—and my car." He turned his attention back to me and raised his foot, letting me breathe again. "On your knees."

I struggled to my knees and Edward stooped down in front of me. He untied the ribbon around my throat and let it flutter to the ground, then trailed his nose up the side of my neck.

"You have no idea how badly I've wanted you," he whispered, cool breath fluttering over my skin. "You're my obsession."

I jerked my head away, but Edward only laughed.

"It's so cute when they struggle."

I whimpered against the gag in my mouth, and Edward's lips moved to my ear.

"What's the matter? Don't you like me?" He dragged his cold fingertips up my thigh to my hip, sending goose bumps skittering across my skin. "Poor little Bella. Maybe she doesn't want to be a vampire's play toy. Did anyone ever ask her?"

He looked back at Carlisle, who merely shrugged, but I was still trying to get my mind around what he had just said. Vampire? Yesterday I wouldn't have believed it, but today I had seen things that sent me reeling. Carlisle, and Edward, too—they were cold, and way too strong. And the way Edward had licked my blood from his thumb . . .

"I guess we'd better ask her now, hadn't we?"

He grinned with amusement as he reached behind my head and unbuckled the gag. My jaw ached with the pain of being forced open for so long, and I was intensely grateful when Edward pulled out the ball and I could finally close my mouth again.

"Well?" he asked. "I'd like to take you upstairs and abuse that sweet little body of yours. How does that sound to you?"

I shivered and shook my head. "I just want to go home."

"Home?" He pushed himself to his feet and slowly walked around behind me. I felt him crouch down again, and then his lips were fluttering against my neck, working their way up toward my ear. "What exactly is the draw of home?" he asked. He sucked my earlobe into his mouth and let his teeth scrape over it as he released it. "Is it the mother who doesn't want you?" His hands snaked around my waist, pushing under my top and sliding up to my ribs. "Or is it your drunk father, who sold you to pay his debts?" His hands crept higher, his palms running over my breasts, and I tried in vain to escape his grasp. He didn't seem to notice. He placed gentle kisses behind my ear, sending shivers down my arms. "I intend to use you for my personal pleasure . . . to violate you in ways you can't even imagine. I'll sample your blood whenever I feel the urge and I'll repay you for it by humiliating you and breaking your spirit." He let his teeth graze my earlobe again. "But I would _never_ sell you. What kind of a monster does that?"

"I don't care what he did," I said, my voice trembling with fear. "I just want to go home."

I heard a dark, feral growl in my ear, and I was startled to realize it had come from Edward.

"Ingratitude," he whispered. "That's worth five lashes at least . . ." He withdrew one hand from my top and wound my hair around it, jerking my head back. "One more chance, Isabella. Tell me how excited you are to be here. Tell me you want nothing more than to be chained to my bed. If you're very convincing, I might go easy on you."

I ground my teeth at the dark, starless sky. "Fuck you."

Edward hummed in pleasure. "Ohhh, little girl . . . I'm going to have _so_ much fun with you."

With a speed that left me dizzy and disoriented, he scooped me up in his arms and darted into the house. I barely had time to notice that we were racing up a spiral staircase before we were at the top and entering a bedroom. Edward dumped me onto a massive bed and pushed me onto my stomach, fiddling with the cuffs that bound my hands. He must have broken a link, because a moment later then tension between my hands released, though the metal cuffs remained around my wrists. He rolled me onto my back and tugged my hands in front of me, bending the link he had just broken back into place and locking my hands together again. He straightened and gave the cuffs a sharp jerk, yanking me off the bed.

He dragged me over to the window—really just one wall made entirely of glass—and hung the chain of the handcuffs over a hook that dangled from the ceiling. I was facing the window that looked out over the back of the house now, which meant I had a clear view of Edward's father and brothers as they wandered into the back yard and sat down in a set of patio chairs that faced the house. They made themselves comfortable, apparently settling in to watch whatever was going to happen next. Jasper said something, and the others laughed.

But they weren't my main concern. Edward had disappeared for a moment, but now he was back, winding my hair up in a bun and securing it tightly. "You're so beautiful like this," he whispered in my ear. "Helpless and on display for me, and for anyone to whom I choose to show you."

I looked away from the small group gathered below and tried to forget that they were watching me.

Edward's hands slid to the front of my top and started to tear it, shredding the insubstantial fabric until it fell in wispy tatters to the floor. His tongue darted out and left a cool, wet trail along my neck.

"Your skin will tear just as easily, you know."

I shuddered as he slid his hands down to my lace panties and destroyed them as well. The scraps dropped to the floor, leaving me naked and exposed. His fingers slipped between my thighs, exploring my folds, and my breath caught as one fingertip slid inside of me.

"This is what I love about high school girls," he whispered, prodding at my sensitive flesh. "It's so easy to find one who hasn't surrendered her virginity. I can't wait to take this from you."

"Please don't," I whimpered. "Please. I just want to go home."

"Mmmm . . . your bravado was awfully short-lived, wasn't it? Too bad. I prefer a girl with some fight in her."

He backed away suddenly, his hands disappearing from my body, and I could hear him opening a drawer behind me.

"Five for your ingratitude," he said, his tone suddenly all business. "And another five . . . just as a welcome gift."

A chill of foreboding trickled through me, flaring into cold terror when Edward reached around me to drag the strands of a leather cat o' nine tails across my breasts. I stared at the braided thongs, all terminating in tight, hard knots, and I shuddered.

"That's right," Edward murmured, "this _should_ frighten you, Bella. I assure you, it's very painful." He dragged it back over my shoulder, and then pain flared in my back, so intense that it stole my breath. I didn't have the air to scream, but tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over.

"Just one lash and you're already crying?" Edward said, sounding amused. He moved to my side and twisted me to face him, leaning down and licking a tear from my cheek. "Delicious." He reached up and re-opened the split in my lip that had bled earlier. He pulled me against him and sucked my lip into his mouth, moaning hungrily as he pressed the bulge in his jeans against my abdomen.

I tried to force back my tears as Edward moved back behind me, but the second lash forced out a cry and a sob. Edward groaned in pleasure, running his fingertips down my raw skin, and then hit me twice more in quick succession.

"Please stop," I begged between shuddering sobs. "Please, I'll do whatever you want."

He laughed, a sound so cold it made my skin crawl. "Little Bella, don't you understand? _This_ is what I want." He leaned down and kissed me tenderly. "I want you crying and begging me for mercy. I want you writhing in agony beneath me. I want your blood staining my sheets."

He spun me to face the window again and brought the cat o' nine tails down across my back three times, even harder than he had before. With the third strike, I felt my skin split and thick drops of blood trickle down my back.

"There it is," he whispered. He knelt behind me, his oddly cool tongue licking at the heated trails. "You taste like heaven, Bella. I'll never have enough of you."

I hoped he would stop now that he had drawn blood, but after a moment he stood again and let the strands of the whip brush across my backside.

"Three more," he murmured, pressing soft kisses to the back of my neck.

I shivered from fear and from the chill of his breath. "Why are you doing this?"

He let out a low chuckle. "Why am I doing what? Torturing you?"

He stepped back and brought the whip down hard across my back. I screamed from the pain, and I heard the sound of muffled laughter from the other side of the glass.

"Do you have any idea how badly you've been torturing _me?_" he demanded his voice suddenly fierce. "How much pain you've caused me, day in and day out, every time I've caught your scent and had to resist drinking from you?"

He whipped me again, even harder than before, and I screamed from the agony of it.

"Do you know how you've made me ache, every time I've watched that sweet little body walk past me, and had to resist _taking_ you?"

I braced myself as I heard the whip rush through the air again, landing with stinging, scalding pain. Edward dropped to his knees behind me again, growling quietly as he lapped up the fresh blood.

"I'm through being at your mercy, Isabella Swan. From now on, you'll be at mine." He slowly rose to his feet, dragging the handle of the whip up my side. He pulled it away, and I thought he would put it aside, but instead he hit me again, making me cry out in agony and desperation.

"No!" I gasped. "You said ten!"

He grabbed me by the waist and spun me toward him, snarling down at me. "Do you think there are rules, girl? Do you think that this is about just punishment for misbehavior?"

I turned my head away, but he grabbed my chin and jerked it back to him.

"I might say ten and give you _fifty._ I'll hurt you when I feel like hurting you and fuck you when I feel like fucking you. You're here to serve me, and I'll do whatever I please with you."

He tossed the whip aside and then reached above my head and broke the chain of the handcuffs. Before I could bring my arms down to push him away, he had grabbed me and thrown me onto the bed. I scrambled to my knees and tried to crawl away, but he caught the chain that still bound my ankles and dragged me back to him. He snapped the chain and shoved me down onto the mattress, and when he covered my body with his I realized that, somewhere between the window and the bed, he had removed his clothes. His hard, cold body pressed flush against mine with no barrier in between. I could feel his erection rubbing against my backside in slow, deliberate thrusts.

"I'm going to play with your cunt, now. Doesn't that sound like fun?"

I sobbed into the blankets and shook my head.

Edward laughed. "It's too bad toys don't get to have an opinion." He shifted his weight off of me and rolled me onto my back, and I shuddered at the sight of the blood that colored his pale skin. My blood, smeared across his body.

I tried to resist him, but I never had a chance. Edward was simply too strong. He forced me down on my back and pinned my wrists above my head with one hand while his knees forced my legs apart.

"You're the perfect gift," he breathed, sounding almost reverent. "Such a beautiful body, such delicious blood . . . and this tight little virgin pussy . . ."

His free hand snaked between us, prodding between my legs again. He tsked disapprovingly.

"It's really too bad that you're not more ready for this. For you, I mean. _I_ certainly won't mind the extra pain it will cause you."

He lined himself up and I started to panic. I tried to squirm out from under him, crying out from the pain of the friction on my raw back.

Edward laughed delightedly. "Are you still trying to get escape me, Bella? Do you really think you have any chance?" He shifted his hips forward, the solid bulge of his cock pressing against my entrance. "Haven't you learned by now? I could crush you with a flick of my wrist. The only reason you're even alive is because it suits my whim."

I twisted my head away, squeezing my eyes shut, and he dragged his tongue up my neck to my ear.

"Beg me," he whispered. "Beg me to let you go, and maybe I will."

I knew he wouldn't. I knew. And yet I couldn't refuse, because what if he really meant it?

"Please," I whispered through my tears. "Please let me go home. I'm sorry for whatever I did to upset you. Please."

"Weak," he whispered in my ear. "Do you think you'll ever convince me like that?"

"I'll do anything," I said quickly, hoping that bargaining might sway him. "I'll—I'll even let you—drink my blood . . . sometimes."

Edward laughed out loud, his cock jabbing against me with the movement of his body. "You'll _let_ me? Oh, little Bella . . . don't' you know by now that I don't need you to _let_ me do anything? Or have I not driven that lesson home yet?"

And with that he surged forward, forcing his way into my body. I felt the sharp sting as my hymen tore, but it was nothing compared to the pain of my tender, abraded flesh stretching to accommodate his startling girth. I cried out in agony, babbling almost incoherently about how badly it hurt, but my reaction only spurred him on. He drove into me, hard and fast, slamming against me with bruising force. There was no give in his body, and it felt like being thrown into a brick wall over and over again, while pain tore through me from within and without. Edward growled filthy words about warmth and tightness, about how weak and helpless I was, and though I tried to tune him out, I couldn't do it. A sick feeling tightened my stomach every time he reminded that I could do nothing to stop him.

My sobs and his own words worked him into a frenzy, and he drove even harder into me. I could feel my flesh swelling and bruising, could feel my blood seeping into the blankets beneath me, but Edward seemed oblivious to my pain. His eyes were squeezed closed, his entire body tense, and just when I was sure I couldn't take anymore, he sank his teeth into my shoulder and began sucking hungrily at my blood. He plunged into me a few more times and then stilled, his whole body quivering as he spilled inside of me, still sucking at my bleeding wound.

It was a moment I thought would never end. Every part of me burned with pain and humiliation as Edward used me to satisfy his cravings. After several endless seconds, he finally went limp and rolled off of me.

"So beautiful," he murmured contentedly, drawing my attention back to him by running a lazy hand up my torso to my breast. "You're going to make such a perfect little blood slave. I think you may be the best birthday gift I've ever been given."


End file.
